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Neville & Luke Spencer
“The Longbottoms own a castle in the South of France?” The gray haired boy exclaimed. “News to me.”
Neville blushed quietly, from where he was sitting across from the boy on the terrace overlooking the French sea. In the evening, the full moon shone brightly over the surface of the gently swaying tides, the salty breeze all around them carried the cool sea winds.
“I can see though why’d you’d want to live somewhere like here.”
“I didn’t think it was … ”
“You didn’t want to brag, that’s fine Neville. Don’t worry too much about it, mate. I’m just teasing,” the gray haired boy said sipping his tea. “You didn’t put any brandy in this,” Luke said grinning mischievously.
“My Gran would kill me,” Neville started.
“I know,” Luke said, his villainous smile lighting up his face. He took a flask from out of his coat pocket and poured something into his tea. “It’s lemon juice, silly.” He told his friend who he could see was fidgeting nervously.
Neville sighed in relief. Luke took a sip of his tea then put the cup down on the table and leaned back on the terrace.
“So … what … ” Neville started. He wasn’t sure if asking would be considered rude; he didn’t want to insult his friend but he was curious.
“Why am I here?” Luke asked, taking in a deep breath.
“I didn’t mean…”
“You’re curious Neville, not rude. Don’t worry I’m not insulted. Yes I know your Gran hates me, thinks I’m a bad influence on you. Evil witch, she’s not much better,” he muttered to himself. “Sorry Neville, I know she’s your Gran and all, but she’s a right witch sometimes that one.”
“She took me in when my parents … ”
“Yeah well, she’s a batty old cow, isn’t she? If she knew I was here she’d throw me out and yell up a storm.”
“She only wants what’s best for me,” Neville said under his breath.
“Look, I’m sorry I’m such a hard apple kid. Trust me, my life ain’t been easy. People don’t exactly love me when they see me coming. Anyways, if it’s going to be trouble I’ll just head down to Rouen and find a little—”
“No.” Neville said quietly, but when Luke wouldn’t shut up — though the gray haired boy had heard him — he said more loudly, “No, don’t. You can stay here if you like. There’s a lot of room in the castle.”
“I don’t want you getting into any trouble because of me.”
“It’s alright Luke. You can stay in the topmost southern tower. It’s my old hiding place. No one ever goes there, and I’ll tell the house elves to leave off cleaning that part of the castle. Really, it’s all right. It’ll be nice to have a friend here. It’s awfully lonely with just me and Gran.”
“Crazy old biddy. Does she still drag you to go hat shopping with her?”
Neville blushed in reply, and Luke’s anger flared up, but he held it in check. Yelling at Neville wasn’t going to make him get a backbone. It hadn’t in all the years of yelling at him. “Have some lemon juice Neville,” Luke said and poured all the contents of his flask into the boy’s teacup. “Tomorrow we’re taking out one of the muggle cars your uncle Algie’s so fond of.”
Neville was too happy to complain so he smiled and took a sip of his tea, he started coughing and remarked, “This isn’t lemon juice.”
Luke smiled as if he didn’t know what his friend was talking about at all.
End Chapter One
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